


Permanent Scars

by JJBashir



Series: Drops of Jupiter [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, WWF/E, World Championship Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Blackmail, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Stalking, There's A Lot of Unresolved OK?, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-10-21 10:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10683021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJBashir/pseuds/JJBashir
Summary: A ghost from Josie's recent past still haunts her. Chris doesn't like that one bit.





	1. Chapter 1

_Tell me did you fall from a shooting star_  
_One without a permanent scar_  
_And then you missed me_  
_While you were lookin' for yourself out there._  
_\---Train, 'Drops of Jupiter'_

 

"Good morning, sir. Can I help you?" The receptionist looked up to regard the handsome, dark-haired man standing at her desk.

"Good morning, Rebecca," he replied with a smile, after quickly glancing at her nameplate. "I'm here to see Mr. Steven Cooper. I have a 9 AM appointment."

Rebecca smiled back at him. "Of course...Mr. McMahon?"

The man nodded. "That would be me."

Rebecca picked up her phone. "I'll let Mr. Cooper know you're here."

"Thank you," Shane said graciously. He knew that he looked striking in his black suit, white shirt and maroon tie; he was hoping to use that to his advantage. He sat quietly, reading that morning's edition of the Atlanta Register, when Rebecca called to him.

"Mr. McMahon, if you could follow me please?"

Shane nodded again and followed Rebecca through the oak doors into the main office. Once again, he was struck at how lucky he was to have chosen the profession he had. Everyone looked harried and rushed and pale. It was a beautiful early summer day, and he was planning on heading to the office gym to work on some new finishing moves, then maybe catch a movie with Josie. When was the last time any of these people had even SEEN outside? He couldn't believe that she had once been one of these-people. How could such fire be contained in such a confining space?

Rebecca knocked on a door. "Mr. Cooper? Your 9 o'clock appointment is here."

 

_One week prior_

**You belong to me.**  
**Don't you dare think any different.**  
**I am always watching you.**  
**Don't ever forget.**

 

Josie threw a magazine over the note. She was shaking...so badly she could barely stand. She sank into her chair, her hands gripping the edge of her desk. It had been months since she had seen a note like that. It hadn't been all that long since she wanted to curl up and wither away to nothing because of the reason behind them.

"Hey, Jos, ready for--Josie?" Chris Irvine, also known to most of the world as Chris Jericho, popped his head into the office. For the wrestlers who chose to live in and around Atlanta, a stop into the main WCW officers wasn't all that unusual, especially if they had segments to tape for out of ring interviews, compilation videos or to do photo shoots for the magazine. There was an open door policy for the majority of the talent to the 'boss', managing director of World Championship Wrestling, Shane McMahon. Chris' open door was also to Shane's executive assistant, Josie Donnelly. "Jos, you look like you've seen a ghost."

She knew better than to try and hide it from him. He'd find out anyway. She picked up the magazine and handed him the note.

"What the hell is this?" he asked.

She frowned "What does it look like, Christopher?"

"It looks like a threat."

"Very good."

"Josephine, how long have you been getting shit like this?" Chris demanded.

Josie rubbed her forehead. "Too long," she whispered. "It's been a long time since the last one." Then her eyes snapped up. She'd never told him about these notes and messages. She hadn't seen one since about a month after she'd started working for Shane McMahon. Maybe another time, but she was in and out of the house so often at that point that it was probably still sitting in a pile of junk mail she hadn't even touched. All her important mail was sent to the office.

Chris's mouth was in a hard thin line. "Josephine--who's been sending this shit to you?" he asked, in that tone of voice that represented that he would brook no argument from her. He was demanding an answer.

She sighed again. "It's not important, Lionheart," she said, pushing it back under the magazine that, ironically, had Chris on the cover of it. "They'll stop. They always do." She looked at him, trying to convey with her eyes that she really didn't want to talk about this subject.

The intercom buzzed. "Jo?" The voice of Shane McMahon filled the office through the phone. "Do you have the ToyBiz and designer contracts ready to sign?"

Josie looked at Chris. She knew her face had to look somewhat pale and stricken with worry no matter how she tried to school it. She picked up the receiver. "Yes, Mister McMahon," she said, her voice betraying nothing of how she actually felt inside. "I'll be in shortly."

"The faster we finish, the sooner you can head out to lunch with your crew," he joked.

She smiled, briefly. "Thank you, Mister--Shane."

"Get in here already," he said. The line went dead.

Chris maintained that flinty expression on his face. He wanted answers, she knew that. She wasn't prepared to give them.

"Christopher. Don't," she said wearily. "It happens. It'll stop."

He was silent for a long time. "Go on...before the Boy Wonder busts his rib in impatience," he said. He tried to soften his voice and leech the concern out of it. "Tell him I said 'thanks' for springing you loose this afternoon." Chris' band Fozzy was playing at a local club in the evening. Josie and most of her work friends were going to have dinner together then go out to support Chris. Shane was begging off dinner due to a meeting with Creative, but was planning to at least make the show.

She nodded and smiled. "Please don't worry about this," she said. "It's not really anything."

Chris leaned over to kiss the top of Josie's head, now that she was standing and her hands were filled with papers. "I'll see you later, OK?"

She nodded and headed into Shane's office.

Chris didn't move until well after the door closed. He lifted up the magazine and slipped the note in his pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris lets Shane know what's going on. Shane will find out for himself soon enough.

The 'incident' didn't come up again for the rest of the day. Chris left lunch early to go warm up and sound check with the band. Matt and Amy headed to their hotel; during their days off the Hardy brothers and Amy were usually at their North Carolina home, but they routinely spent a cycle of days off every couple of weeks in Atlanta to check in at the main office but mostly to see Josie. Jeff would stay in her spare bedroom, giving the brothers some time from each other and Matt and Amy a little time for each other that wasn't 'home' Josie and Jeff would usually invade Chris's Atlanta apartment, hitting local sights and the Six flags amusement park because Josie loved the place.

It was a night out like so many others that Josie shared with her friends. Dinner at a lowkey place, though this time it was the fabled Varsity because Josie had been craving a Steak All The Way, Ring One with a V.O. and Matt could scarf down chili dogs like a Hoover on the relative cheap.

The Limelight was their favorite 'dive' bar, a wrestler hangout for decades with pictures of stars from the 1940s on littering the walls. Current stars like Goldberg, The Rock and Edge and Christian shared wall space with legends like Ric Flair and Harley Race, Randy Savage and Paul Orndorff. It was a place they could go and let loose in relative peace and anonymity. When almost everyone in the place was in the business, was related to the business or had been in the business, there was no need to be wary about conversations. Many a bout of legit heat was cooled in the Limelight after a few rounds--and just as many bouts of legit heat started because of a bar brawl or someone catching a significant other in a compromising positioned in its darkened booths.

Most of the people at Limelight knew all about Chris' 'hobby', the heavy metal cover band he'd started back in '99 with a old friend of his, Rich Ward. It had been jokingly called 'Fozzy Osbourne' and had been almost strictly covers. Because he couldn't help himself, Chris had created an elaborate backstory for the band, claiming they had been '80s metal stars trapped in Japan for the last twenty years because their record company went out of business and all their demos were stolen and passed off in the States to other bands like Guns n Roses and Poison. Chris became 'Moongoose McQueen', rock's ultimate front man. His name and Rich's influences were enough to get them signed to an actual record deal in 2000.

Tonight, they were working the kinks out of songs they wanted to put on their second album, an album that would have still have covers but for the first time feature songs written mostly by Chris and Rich. Josie knew some of those songs well. At least two of them were written in her house, the rest on the road. She had access to the ever present notebook that accompanied Chris, often helped him as a sounding board for lyrics. She'd heard the raw versions of many of the original tracks he'd been working on. She was looking forward to hearing it all come together.

It wasn't so difficult to see Chris as the frontman for a rock band. He was a born showman, after all, and he beyond looked the part on a regular day much less right now. She really didn't know how he managed to get into the leather outfit he was wearing. His pants were entirely too tight. Actually they were perfectly tight and clung to his muscular thighs and legs in places Josie was trying very hard NOT to look. He went with a leather biker-type vest studded and ringed with chrome and his blond hair was wilder than normal. In her opinion, he could stand to lose the whole Moongoose McQueen persona. It was just a more extreme, blown out version of Y2J and he didn't really need it.

Not with that voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls and species of all other orientations!" It was close to the 'Raw Is JERICHO' voice he often used but just a little less harsh. "We're debuting our very first original song for you tonight! THIS--is Happenstance!"

Josie knew the words, she knew them well. This was one of the songs he'd actually written at her house. She was extremely pleased with the results.

 

_It's too late to change what has happened_  
_Try to decide your reaction_  
_'Cause it's too late to change what has happened_  
_Try to decide your reaction_  
_And I see, but I'm blinded_  
_And I see, but my fate still finds me_  
_Faith in who we are_

 

Chris 'broke character' long enough to grab a beer with them between sets. "Nice!" was Jeff's declaration to it, which besides Happenstance included another original called 'Crucify Yourself' along with some covers like L.O.V.E. Machine and Big City Nights.

"Thanks man," Chris said, nudging Josie's hip with his own. "Didya like your song, Jos?"

She blinked. "MY song? I got a song? What song?" She patently ignored the smirk on Amy's face.

"How many times I have played Happenstance in your house, Josephine?" Chris asked, his voice filled with exasperation.

She rolled her eyes. "About seven dozen," she admitted.

"I wrote it in your house, I first played it in your house, it's your song," he declared.

 

"What's Jo's song?"

 

"SHANE!" Their boss had finally made his way over to the table. "You finally dug your way out from under your desk?" Chris teased as he smacked his hand noisily to shake it.

"Funny how I thought I was in control of my professional life until I had to actually try and y'know, be in control my professional life for half a day," he joked, sliding in on the other side of Josie with a beer in hand. "You're never allowed another day off ever," he teased her, wrapping his free arm around her shoulder and kissing the top of her head. He was hopelessly smitten with his personal assistant. She was pretty smitten with him herself but circumstances made her want to take a long, slow courtship. In the office he was on perfect professional behavior. Off hours, however, he got as familiar as she'd allow in public--and a little bit more than that in private.

"I quit," she said, leaning against him but still making sure her leg rested against her best friend's.

"You only get to use that excuse for extreme situations, like wanting to stick your tongue down my throat" Shane retorted. "What's this about Jo having a song? Did I miss it?"

The conversation quickly revolved around the fact that Fozzy was moving into original material.

"About time," Shane said. "Not that I don't love a good cover band but damn, Chris--you're good."

"And still under contract, so for now it stays a pretty instensive hobby," he joked. "Hey, I gotta get back for the second set." Chris kissed Amy on the cheek, then Josie and gave all the men a clap on the shoulder. "A lot more original stuff in the second half, promise." He gave Josie another kiss on the top of her head. "Thanks for being here, angel," he whispered before he left.

 

The second set was even better than the first. The band started with a short instrumental before going into a song called 'To Kill A Stranger', easily Josie's favorite of the ones he'd written and had made a few unsubtle hints to him that it should be the first single released. There was a even harder edge to this set of songs than the first and even with Shane sitting right there, it was difficult for Josie to remember that the man stalking the stage and ripping high notes with ease was her moderately goofy friend Chris. Especially when he leveled a few looks on her that could be only defined as lascivious.

"He's getting a little too into that Moongoose McQueen bullshit," she heard and felt Shane's arm pull her a little closer...almost possessively so.

She shrugged. "I keep telling him to drop the gimmick, he doesn't need it," she said over the music. She discreetly let her hand rest on his knee for most of the next two songs, just to put him at ease. She'd felt and seen a shift between Shane and Chris ever since a night a few weeks earlier when she and Shane had made something of a spectacle of themselves in front of most of the company, Shane admitted he was in love with her and told her she had until a specific point in time to prove to him that they couldn't work as a couple. She was happy to take things as slow as they had been. But it was easy to forget that the man she was in love with was sitting right next to her with Chris--correction Moongoose McQueen--locking on her with that 'come hither' sex god look as he sang in her direction.

"Girl, close your mouth, flies will come in," Jeff snickered.

 

Chris was surprised to come out to meet his friends after getting out of his leather get up in and into jeans and a t-shirt, making the congratulatory rounds in the bar to find Shane sitting there alone. In a way, it was a perfect scenario. "Where's the Chuckle Brothers?" he asked Shane as he straddled a chair.

"Getting shots on my dime," Shane joked. "Girls are in the ladies room dumping cold water over their heads." He smirked but there was a little bit of an edge in his voice when he said, "You just had to do the hip swiveling thing, didn't ya?"

Chris smirked back. "Because you weren't marking your territory with your arm around her shoulder?" he shot back. "Come on, Shane. Don't even try busting my balls on this one." Romantic rivalry aside, he leaned a little closer and his expression got more serious. "Was--was Josie OK in the office before she left?" he asked.

Shane looked surprised. "She seemed--a little off," he admitted. "Distracted. What did you do, drop trou before I called her?"

Chris snorted. "Shane-O if I gave Miss Donnelly even a peek at not-so-little Jericho-Down-There you wouldn't have a chance in hell."

Shane flipped him off.

"No seriously. She's OK?"

Now Shane sat up a little. "What's going on, Irvine?"

Chris reached into his jeans pocket to pull out the note he'd slipped off her desk that morning. "She was hiding this when I stopped by the office on my way to Creative," he said, pushing it over to Shane.

Shane read it. His eyes narrowed as he read it a second time then glanced up at Chris.

"She was scared, Shane," Chris said. "I can count on my fingers the times I have seen that woman genuinely frightened and both of them have involved you." He crossed his arms. "She let Hunter choke her...she kicked him in the head, and she wasn't frightened. She's told your father off, and she wasn't frightened. I saw her this morning--and it looked like she'd seen a dozen ghosts."

Shane's frown grew. "Who the hell is sending this shit to her?" he demanded.

"I was hoping you could get it out of her," Chris answered. "All she would give me was it didn't matter, it had been a while since she got one and it would just 'go away'." The look on Chris' face make it pretty clear he really didn't believe any of it.

Shane's lips were pursed tightly, brow furrowed. "You want me to ask her?" he said, though he already knew the answer.

"Just keep an eye on her when you take her home tonight," Chris said, shaking his head. Josie didn't want him to worry, she'd never tell Shane a thing but it was worth a try in his book.

Shane snorted. "How do you even know she's going to let me take her home? She always seems to manage to get you to take her home," he sniped.

Chris stared at him.

Shane stared back. It started to get uncomfortable, being held in that steady and cool blue gaze. He swallowed. "All right...I guess I'm taking her home then," he finally said, needing to finish his beer in order to get the words out.

"See? I knew you'd see it my way." Chris was about to say something else but he followed Shane's gaze and turned his head. The ladies were returning. He looked back at Shane, who nodded his head. They'd take the conversation up later. It was too important not to.

"Chris! Great set man!" Amy gave Chris a kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah. Good going 'Moongoose'," Josie added. She ruffled his hair before she gave him a kiss on the cheek as well. She motioned for Shane to move over so she could take her previous seat.

Shane actually managed not to smirk as he casually draped his arm around her shoulders again, as it had been before. "Yeah 'Moongoose' nice set," Shane joked but he had a gleam in his eye that Chris was all too familiar with.

"I will power bomb you through this table right fucking now, Simba," he said without a moment of hesitation.

Shane smirked. "Aw, Chrissy. I didn't know you cared."

"Boys. Enough." Josie never really got why at times the two of them would get downright hostile with each other. It was like the continuation of a conversation that only the two of them knew about and it made her more than a little uncomfortable for a multitude of reasons. "We're supposed to be friends, remember?"

Chris snickered but there was no humor in his eyes as he said, "Now Jos, you know we're just kidding around."

"Yeah," Shane agreed even as he pulled her a little closer. "A day we can't bust each other's balls is like a day without sunshine." He kissed Josie's temple, but like Chris, that flinty cold look in his eyes remained.

Luckily, Jeff and Matt returned with a bottle of tequila and announced that shots were going all around. The tension immediately lifted. At least that was the appearance given because there was a sort of silent agreement between Chris and Shane that their own rivalry was going to take a backseat as long as Josie was keyed into the fact that they were actually dead serious about having a brawl. Chris wondered if Shane had noticed that he was indeed sexing Josie up from the stage right under his nose and he saw her reaction to it. That was victory enough for him at the moment. _Game on, McMahon. You said it, not me. Choke on it then._

It was about an hour later when Shane noticed Josie hiding a yawn behind her hand. "You OK, babe?" he asked, rubbing her shoulder gently.

She nodded. "I'm just a little tired," she said. "I'll be fine." Jeff, Matt and Amy were playing pool, Chris was back with the band packing up gear.

"We can get out of here," Shane said quietly. "I'll take you home. Maybe..." He reached down to take her hand in his. "Maybe we take the scenic route?" he asked hopefully. Many of their 'dates' were really long drives to varied scenic outlooks outside of Atlanta where they sat and talked. Maybe he could find out what had happened earlier in the day.

She shook her head. "I drove Jeffy here," she said and she sounded regretful about it. "I should really get sober enough to drive us home."

"Oh is that why you're letting me cop a feel, you're buzzed?" he teased as he let his fingertips trace along her neck. "Good to know."

"Shane? Shut up." She lifted her head up to give him a brief kiss.

"You're not helping with this 'let's get outta here' urge, Miss Donnelly," he said, his voice that low, gravelly growl that he knew made Josie shiver.

Josie raised an eyebrow. "Now which one of us is buzzed, Mister McMahon?"

He pulled her closer. "Oh, I am stone cold sober," he said, kissing her again, rubbing his nose against hers.

 

"Ahem."

 

They both looked up into the smiling face of Jeff Hardy.

 

"Hey Jos," he said. "I can drive the car back to your place. Ames said you were looking a little peaky." His grin broadened since what Amy actually had said 'Oh God Jeff, go get Josie's car keys before they two of them start making out in the middle of the bar again.'

"It's OK, Jeffy--"

"Sunshine Girl--give Jeff the keys and go take the boss for a ride already before he cries," came another voice.

Josie gave a long-suffering sigh. "Why are you my best friend again?" she asked Chris.

Chris smirked. "Because I'm prettier than you are." He leaned over the back of the booth and kissed her head. "Go. Jeff will get the car home, you need to turn in. You look tired."

"It's been a long week," Shane lied easily.

Josie looked at Shane strangely, as if those were the last words she expected to hear from him. She dug in her purse and handed the keys to Jeff. "The registration and the insurance card--"

"--are in the driver's side windshield visor, I know," Jeff said. "You go home and get some rest, OK? You DO look tired."

Josie didn't know why everyone was conspiring to get her to leave with Shane but she really was too tired to argue. "Here give me the spare house key," she said to Jeff and slipped it into her purse. "Just be careful," she told him. "That car is practically new."

"That car is perfectly boring," Shane muttered. Chris snickered since he'd said the same thing a week or so prior. "You need the new Audi TT..."

"She needs a '65 Lincoln Continental," Chris retorted. "WITH the suicide doors..."

"No _I_ need the '65 Lincoln with the suicide doors," Shane replied. "SHE needs the '68 Stingray."

"No _I_ need the '68 Stingray," Chris said. "She needs--"

"SHE would like to go home and have her nice, sensible '99 Civic to get back there in one piece," Josie said to silence both of them. "Plus I still need to make it to work tomorrow..."

"Let's discuss that in private, Miss Donnelly," Shane said, standing up and reaching out for her hand. "I might have an in with your boss. Kind of got him wrapped around my little finger."

"Ha. Ha ha." She took his hand to pull herself up but she went and said her goodbyes to everyone first, saving Chris for last. She just needed a last hug before she left him for the night, considering how her morning began.

"Sleep well, sweet angel," he said quietly, hugging her tight.

"Good night, Lionheart," she whispered back, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"You'd better. Go before the Boy Wonder shanks me."

"I'm standing right here y'know, Irvine," Shane said sourly.

Chris gave him a last smirk for the road. "Love you too, puddin' pop."

Shane flipped him off. "Ass." He wrapped an arm around Josie's waist as he escorted her out of the Limelight and over to his 2000 Mercedes CLK 55 AMG silver convertible. He'd rented it in March when he first got to Atlanta; he'd just finalized the purchase the week before.

"Where we going?" Josie said as she slid into the passenger seat.

"Told you. Scenic Route." He slipped a cd in the player. Sometimes it would be of varied classical pieces, so conversation would be easier but it was Aretha Franklin for the moment. It wasn't long before he was heading them along the outskirts of Bellwood Quarry, not really taking the car out to full power. He simply meandered, enjoying the company. "You OK, sweetheart?" he asked after slowing and stopping.

"It's nothing, Shane," she said. She closed her eyes as he turned the engine off, leaving the power on long enough to drop the convertible top and to run for the cd player.

"I didn't want to mention it back there," he said, getting comfortable in his seat to look at her, "but you seemed off this morning."

She shook her head. "I just--I was up too late, trying to get the Nielsen ratings report finished," she said. Knowing she was a chronic workaholic, she thought she could sell it as a legitimate reason.

Shane crooked his finger at her. "If you're gonna lie to me, at least console me with kisses while you do it," he whispered, coaxing her over the gearshift into his lap. He hummed as she did just that.

"I'm not lying," she whispered against his lips. "I just--it's nothing, Shane. I promise. I'm just tired."

"Don't you dare bitch at me about not having enough vacation days that you never use then," he joked. He shifted so she was on his lap, his eyes closing as her fingers drew through his hair. "You're also going to put me to sleep like that," he added, his head tilting back. His hand rested on the small of her back as she rested closer. These were the moments he really held onto, especially when he was on the road while she was still in Atlanta. "I'm getting used to this."

"Are you saying I'm spoiling you more rotten than you already are?" Josie teased. It was cool enough where her hands burrowed under his jacket and she rested her hands on his shirt. "I needed this," she said quietly.

The sense of disquiet slowly lifted as they listened to Aretha and let the late spring evening air cool them. Shane didn't answer her verbally at first, just kissed her temple gently. "I don't mind you telling me if something's wrong," he said.

"Because our entire life isn't already all about putting out fires, conflict and trying to stay ahead of everything?" she replied. "I like this for us right now. Quiet. No talking. No--just this. Us."

"Yes, ma'am. Quiet. Just us. No talking." Which for someone like Shane was nearly impossible because he talked. A lot. All the time. "Jo--"

"You're just trying to make me shut you up aren't you?" she asked.

"Guilty as charged." The kisses were slower, softer. It was more a comforting gesture and she was right. Every so often, he needed to slow down and just be. Doing that was easily helped along as her hands moved more under his jacket and up his back.

"You know I have a perfectly warm and suitable house not far from here to do this in," she pointed out, her lips brushing against his neck.

"I can just raise the top of the convertible if you're that cold, Miss Donnelly," he said as her pulled her that much closer.

"Brandon, stop being an asshole." She often used his middle name when he was being particularly snarky.

Shane smirked. "And did you want me to stop breathing too, Jo, or are you too busy trying to get my shirt out of my jeans?"

She snorted and pushed herself away.

"Oh come on! I'm kidding, I'm KIDDING. Home. I'll take you home so you can molest me more thoroughly, OK? OK!?" It wasn't a long drive to her house from the quarry, no more than ten minutes when he really let the V8 out and grinned as she tried not squealing because her hair was whipping around her face. It was this thing he loved the most with them. He did adrenaline junkie type things and she might try to stop him but when it was already too late she just sat back and hung on instead of lecturing him about how he shouldn't have started to begin with.

The Civic was in the driveway with a note on it from Jeff: 'Keys in the house. Staying over with CJ tonight. Do everything I would. Rainbow Brite'. Shane chuckled as he handed her the note. "Af if he knew something," he said.

She shook her head. "Like he knows what? YOU have three meetings tomorrow and it's Creative conference at 4."

He already had her back against her front door. "LIke he knows I'm actually the boss and can reschedule all three of those meetings and teleconference from my place." He lowered his lips to her neck and kissed. He groaned when her fingers threaded through his hair again. "For someone trying to kick me out, you are doing very little to further your cause, young lady."

"How can I kick you out when we haven't even been inside yet?" she pointed out. She didn't wait for an answer, she kissed him silent.

Too bad for her he was used to opening doors one handed and with his eyes closed. He already had the key in his hand and he made sure he had a firm hold of her as he got the key in the lock, opened the deadbolt and pushed the door open. "There. We're inside before I started dry-humping you in your front yard. Again." Door was closed and locked, jacket was thrown off and he kissed her much more passionately this time. "You promised molestation. You know how your word is your bond in business, yadda yadda yadda."

She pushed him on the couch, following close behind. "You talk too much." She fixed that by kissing him again, taking her time to explore every part of his mouth with her own.

It was as close to heaven as Shane was going to get. Of course something had to ruin it.

 

Something like a crash, a sick sounding thud, a yelp, something bouncing off his head, then the too-familiar prickling of sharp points of pain blooming up on his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song 'Happenstance' is written by Chris Jericho and Rich Ward, and appears on Fozzy's second album of the same name. If you like metal, I highly recommend you listen to Fozzy, they are very VERY good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of bricks through windows and Shane takes matters into his own hands

"Yeah, she's OK, the EMTs are checking her out right now. Just--wait, let me ask her."

Shane McMahon was used to facing chaos and turning it into order. He'd already got someone out from a restoration company to get some plywood over the broken window, called the head of company security to come sit outside her house, spoken to the police and shooed away the EMTs who were trying to tell him he needed to get a couple of stitches for the cut on the side of his head. "Worry about her," he ordered as he continued to try and fix whatever the hell this was.

Now he was on the phone with Josie's best friend, Chris Irvine. He held his hand over the mic on his cell phone to call out, "Jo...do you want to talk to Chris?" She was sitting on the couch, getting butterfly tapes put on the nasty gash on her temple. 

She shook her head. "In the morning," she whispered, her voice sounding far away and faint to Shane's ear.

He sighed. This wasn't going to go over well, he was sure of that. "Chris--she's pretty messed up. She said in the morning." He expected the silence, but not the sigh.

"I'm just glad she's not totally alone," the voice on the other end said after a long pause. "If she'd been on her own, we'd never have heard about it."

"No kidding," Shane said. "I just wish I could afford to have her out of the office this run." Shane had to be on the road as managing director of WCW. Josie couldn't be on the road with him all the time, not nearly as much as he wanted. It would be another few months before Shane could justify hiring an assistant for HER, so that he could have her at his side full time. There were other reasons for him wanting to have her by his side, but he knew she'd have him by the short hairs if he tried to use that as leverage.

"I think this is a special occasion, Shane," Chris protested, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"I can get Mom to come down," Shane said. "It's not perfect but it's something."

"I'll talk to her--"

"It's not her this time, Chris," Shane said. "I need her in the office right now, we're behind on a couple of important marketing contracts, she’s working on the summer ad campaign and..." He looked over at her on the couch. "...I think diving into work will do her some good."

There was another sigh. "Was it _just_ a rock?" Chris asked.

Shane moved into a quieter spot of the small house. The police had finished taking their statements and the EMTs were packing up to leave. "No. There was a note. 'Glad to see you're up to your old tricks. I wonder what your boss would feel about not being your first executive conquest'. Creepy print, like whoever wrote it was trying not to have their handwriting recognized." There was a edge in Shane's voice. "Whoever this asshole is, he's been watching her. Us. Me and her. Who knows who else."

"I'm coming over tomorrow," Chris said. "We'll talk about it then, OK? Just--take care of her tonight, Shane."

"Will do."

"I mean it, McMahon. Give her her favorite pair of blue flannel boxers and a big t-shirt," Chris said. "That's usually her comfort pjs."

"OK?" It was kind of frightening that another person and especially _this_ person, knew what Josie's 'comfort clothes' were.

"And make her some peppermint tea. The fan--yeah, turn on the fan."

"I'm moderately annoyed you know all this shit, Irvine," he complained.

Chris chuckled. "Timing, boss. Timing." He went silent again, then said. "Just take good care of her. Don't let her feed you that 'I'm fine' bullshit line. Bully her if you have to."

Shane nodded once, stopping when he remembered he was on the phone. "Yeah. Got it. Look, I gotta go, the EMTs are getting ready to leave."

"Thanks for calling, man," Chris said. "We'll talk tomorrow. Tell Jos I love her."

That word made Shane's face twist up, but he dutifully repled, "will do. Later." Shane hung up the line then headed over to the couch where Josie was still sitting. He overheard the EMT giving her instructions on caring for her cut, then she looked up at Shane.

"I really wish you would come to the ER to have that stitched up, Mister McMahon," the woman said.

Shane chuckled. "This little thing? This is called 'Tuesday'. If it really bothers me, I'll get it taken care of tomorrow."

The EMT nodded, gave him some instructions as she left and then it was just him and Josie. 

He reached over, traced the line of butterfly tapes along her temple. This time he was going to insist she see a plastic surgeon to get it carefully repaired. He couldn’t bear the thought of another scar on her skin because of him. He shifted closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He closed his eyes when she leaned into him, her head resting on his chest. He buried his nose in her hair and rocked her gently in his arms. "I'm going to go to my car for a minute, OK?" he said. "I'm gonna go get my gear bag. Then we can go and get ready for bed."

Her head moved, eyes locking on his.

"If you think I'm leaving you alone in this house after what happened, you're nuts," he said. He winced to hear the glass crunching under his feet.

"I'll get a broom," she said, her voice sounding a little wooden.

"Jo...leave it. We'll clean up in the morning." He helped her to her feet. "Hey--are you up for something to drink? I could use some tea." He knew what Chris told him, to just bully her into accepting comfort but he couldn't bring himself to be full bore Shane O'Mac. Right now, even though it wasn’t official, he needed to be the concerned boyfriend and ease her through this. He knew she would not take care of herself. She would, however, take care of him and he would exploit that to the hilt.

"I--I'll put the kettle on," she said.

"I'll be right back," he said. Everyone always kept a bag of gym gear in their cars. They all worked out at least five days a week--they had to. Baggy shorts and a t-shirt were just as good to sleep in as to bench press in. When he got back inside and locked the door behind him, he could hear her rummaging around in the kitchen. He dropped his bag in the back bedroom. He quickly got changed, finding a hanger for his shirt and suit jacket, shoving everything else in his bag. Only after that did he feel able to go into the kitchen and watch her.

He could tell that she was shaken. She moved woodenly, eyes cast downward, the silence palatable. He entered the room slowly enough not to startle her, so that she could see it was him. He returned the brief smile she gave him seeing him dressed in shorts and t-shirt, sneakers but no socks. He moved behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist. "Why don't you go put something comfortable on?" he suggested. "I can finish this up."

It took a little bit for her to get any words out. "It--It's OK...you don't have to--"

"Hey," he said. "Hey. When I needed you the most, you were there for me. Let me be here for you right now, OK?" He kissed her cheek. "You go get your comfy pjs...I'll bring the tea in." His words were accompanied with his hands smoothing down her sides. He smiled as she nodded then made her way, he presumed, to her bedroom. He rummaged around the cupboards until he found the box of peppermint tea Chris had mentioned. Bags went in the mugs, he dumped two spoons of sugar in both (he'd watched how she made her coffee enough times to know she liked two sugars) and topped them off with the hot water. He carried the mugs to the back of the house. "Jo?"

"The bedroom where you dropped your bag, Shane," she called out.

He was sort of surprised that he picked the room he thought was the spare bedroom. It was simply furnished and plain. He set the mugs on the nightstand, then sat on the bed to toe his sneakers off. He laid back, grabbed one mug and sipped his tea while he waited for her to come from out of the bathroom--at least, that where he assumed she was. 

He was proven right when she did come in, her face scrubbed free of makeup, hair brushed and wearing a baggy 'Jericho' t-shirt and a pair of blue flannel shorts. She looked down at her feet. 

Shane was always fairly sure that he was done being surprised by how beautiful she was. He'd never seen her completely makeup-free before. He wished it had been under better circumstances. "Hey, pretty lady," he said quietly. He could see the scar on her cheek from Summerslam, the one that she artfully hid with foundation, the one he hated beyond words. He could see a slight smattering of freckles across her nose.

She shook her head as she sat on the bed and took her mug. "I don't feel all that pretty right now," she said. Actually, she felt fairly dirty. The note had affected her deep, cut to the bone. She never wanted to acknowledge who it was who did this. She knew--but if she didn't think about it, she wouldn't have to think about the reasons. After all, she deserved her punishments. She'd been the one in the wrong.

Shane set his cup down, then took hers and did the same. He pulled her back into his arms to lay on the covers of her bed. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he whispered in her ear, "and whatever this is all about, that never changes. You only get more and more beautiful to me." He could feel her trembling in his arms and he embraced her tighter. "Jo...can you tell me? What this was all about?" he asked. He had already decided he wasn't going to mention that Chris had told him about the first note, the one he had found on her desk. He'd let it come out naturally.

She shook her head. "In--I--in the morning, Shane?" she asked hesitantly. "I promise, I'll tell you everything I just--I just--in the morning? Please?"

He nodded. "Of course," he replied. He cradled her head against his chest as she moved closer. "Just--don't keep shutting me out, Jo. I need all of you, not just the good parts."

She was silent again, her hand resting on his chest. "The good parts aren't so good, Shane."

He kissed the top of her head. "Good thing for you I love all the parts then huh?" He smoothed his hand along her arm. "Come on. Try and rest, sweetheart. You promised we'd talk in the morning, we'll talk in the morning." He turned off the light next to him and reached over to turn off the other when her hand rest on his wrist.

"Please? Leave it on?"

He shook his head and clicked it off. "I am right here," he whispered as she settled back down, shifting slightly in order to get the covers around them. "I am right here and no-one is going to come and hurt you while I am. You lay your head down and sleep, and I promise you'll be OK." He knew it was slightly cheating that he was using his voice to its fullest effect because he knew how to, pitched low, volume soft and tone settling. He stroked her back lightly, watching and waiting for her breathing to slow and steady, for his eyes to adjust to the low light in the room enough to see that she had closed her eyes. It wasn't a perfect sleep, he already knew it would be fitful and probably broken...but it was sleep all the same.

Not that he planned on getting any that night.

 

 

Shane got himself out of bed around seven am--it was a late start for him; he was usually up at five-thirty to start his day but with everything that happened, he thought sleeping in was needed for the both of them. He'd managed to find the coffee and get it started when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. "Go back to bed, Jo," he said before she entered the kitchen.

"Can't sleep," she said as she entered, blonde hair pulled in a messy ponytail. "Bed's too cold."

Shane smiled at that complaint. "Nice to know I'm a good bedwarmer. I'll be back in a minute. Making coffee, then we're calling in for the day."

Josie sighed and shook her head. "Shane..."

He held up a hand. "Don't want to hear it," he said. "After what you went through last night...no. You need a day off and I need to keep an eye on you or I'll go insane. Plus, you promised explanations in the morning. It's morning." The last was said with a slight grin, to let her know he was only joking, trying to put her at ease. "Please Jo, just this once? Let me take care of you?" Shane almost held his breath but he didn't take his gaze from hers.

She nodded. It was a lost cause when Shane dug his heels in nothing she could do would change his mind. She should know that by this point. "All right," she said quietly. "Don't say I didn't warn you when I say 'the good parts aren't so good'."

He made his way over to where she stood, kissed her temple once. "Don't say I didn't tell you 'I want it all'," he replied. Before she'd gotten out of bed, he'd gone and swept up the broken glass in the living room. He took the mugs of coffee he'd fixed for them both and took them in there, sitting himself in the tan love seat that was set on a diagonal from the couch they'd been sitting on the night before. He could see the slump in her shoulders and the wariness in her eyes as she sat next to him. "It's OK," he said, handing her a mug. "I asked for this."

"You didn't ask to be chased by some gold-digging, overly ambitious whore," she answered before taking a sip of her coffee.

The answer made him frown. He couldn't even get the words of protest out before she raised a hand.

"Let me explain," she said.

It was always difficult for Shane to listen when it was someone he cared about. He immediately wanted to fix, he immediately wanted to reassure and comfort but she wasn't going to give him the chance for that, if the words she was using were any indication. They were harsh and overly blunt as if she could use them to pummel him out of her life by using them.

"I was ambitious, Shane," she said. "I was ambitious, I was cocky, I wanted to get so far away from my Chicago roots I would do anything. I wanted to be ruthless and make my bones right out of the gate. Jackson-Cole was the furthest culturally for me I could get. It was perfect, Atlanta was perfect. It had that sheen of respectability and that cutthroat underbelly I wanted. I didn't want to be little Josie Donnelly from the South East of Chicago. I wanted to be a player."

"It was your first job out of grad school," Shane said. "That's what we all want. Hell I wanted it--"

"If you really wanted it," she said, "you wouldn't have gone to your father's own company and worked your way through the ranks. You paid your dues. You _expected_ to pay your dues. I was too smart to wait for such stupid things like that."

He was tempted to answer but instead he sipped his coffee and forced himself to keep his mouth shut. He forced himself to listen to what she said, about how she stole accounts, how she put herself in places to be noticed, how she took credit she didn't always deserve and made sure she got the credit she felt others had stolen from her. For him, it seemed almost a tame tale, something that must have seemed horrible to her but really it was what ambition did to some people.

"Steven was the hot touch," she continued. "He was the newest partner, he had all the newest accounts, the ones that I thought I could make the best impact with. Yes, by that time Phil and Petra had taken me under their wings, tried to steer me away, tried to warn me about his reputation, but I was too smart to fall for any of that. I was going to pick Steven Cooper's brina clean then jump over him to end up the youngest partner in Jackson-Coe history."

So far there really wasn't anything that Shane could find that would warrant her beating herself up so badly for.

"It became more and more late night meetings. He didn't flatter my looks, he flattered my intelligence," she said. "I thought I was being so clever, trying to suck up him, trying to play on my youth and drive..."

"Sweetheart?" Shane's voice was quiet and hesitant as he spoke. "Jo, I'm not trying to diminish what you're trying to tell me but...it really doesn't sound as bad as you seem to think it is."

"He played me, Shane," she said bitterly. "I thought I was holding all the cards but I wasn't."

Shane was pinching the bridge of his nose. "I really don't want you to be angry at me right now for saying this," he said, "but you would not be the first hotshot, male OR female, who tried to sleep your way to the top."

"More like he trapped me in a major blunder that made me beholden to him," she replied. "He--I messed up an account. I completely ignored the client's instructions. He took one look at the mockups and reamed the entire team a new one. I was in charge of that team so--" She shrugged. "I took the blame. I needed those people on my side, I was going to need them further along in my career. Not that I was upset about what I'd done, and not that I felt bad for them...I NEEDED them to make me look good, so I didn't want to piss them off in case I needed one of them two, three years down the line." She looked up at Shane for the first time since she had started her story. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you, Shane?"

Shane nodded. "I understand," he said and he truly did. It was corporate cuthroatedness at its best. It was kind of sexy and hot in a way, which probably made him not exactly well but at the same time he was someone who breathed this air in. He understood what she said, what he didn't understand was why she blamed herself so much for it.

"So when he made me stay with him and fix the account, I had to do it."

Shane nodded.

"I didn't want to."

"Because you didn't think you did anything wrong. I get that."

She glared at him. "Do you think this is easy for me?" she snapped at him.

Shane sighed holding up one hand as he set down his coffee cup. "Jo--I know it's not," he said. Even if he couldn't see it in her eyes and in hear it in her voice, he could tell just from the way she held her body as she sat, like she was trying to fold in on herself. He knew she would pull away but he reached out for her anyway, wrapped an arm around her shoulders regardless. He was surprised when after a bit of hesitation, she leaned into him. "I told you," he said after kissing the top of her hair. "I want it all. Warts, flaws and everything else. I love the good parts. I need the rest."

"The rest is that I seduced a married man so I could get out of being punished."

The silence hung in the air. Shane was sure she expected him to lash out. "OK," was all he said. He was rewarded with a look of confusion and almost disgust. "Jo...listen, you don't need to tell me anymore of this, OK?"

"But..."

Shane took her face in both of his hands, stroking his thumbs along her cheeks. "Josephine, listen to me. Whatever your motivations...I don't care. I don't care about any of that."

"Shane, you have to--"

"Actually, no. No. I don't," he said. "Because even with what you're telling me? None of that explains a brick through your window and a note threatening you. Two notes threatening you." He rubbed his unshaven face with one hand. "Josie..."

"It wasn't exactly--vanilla," she finally said and she firmly looked away from him as she did. "He--it was very dominant/submissive," she said after a long silence. "He promised to keep my ass off the firing block, but only if I would do certain things for him. With him."

Shane continued to look at her, waiting for her to finally meet his gaze. She didn't.

"It was just fucking in the office at first," she continued. "Late at night---"

Shane had enough. "OK, Jo...JO. Stop. Stop talking and look at me."

She looked at her knees and he could feel her shift as if she was pulling away.

"Goddamnit Josephine, I said _look at me_." He didn't mean to sound as harsh as he did, but he'd had enough. "What, are you trying to disgust me or something so I'll run away, is that what all this is?"

"Yes. No. Yes." Her answers were hesitant and he didn't like the tone of them.

"Not happening." He reached over and he lifted her chin to make her look at him. "It doesn't. You made a mistake. We all make mistakes. That doesn't give him the right to --haunt you like this. What, like you're his own personal property?"

"That was the deal," she mumbled.

Shane snorted. "And what? HE got you fired, you didn't do anything. **HE** did. **HE** reneged on the deal, then. **HE** doesn't get to come back at you with all this bullshit. **HE** doesn't get to act like you're his own piece of personal property. You're not a toy and you don't deserve this." He took a deep breath and added, "and I don't care if you think you do. You don't." He was ready to launch off into another tirade when the doorbell rang. He didn't like the look of panic on her face until the muffled voice came into the room.

"Jos? It's Chris."

Then he got to not like the look of relief on her face at that. Yes, he was a piece of crap for begrudging Jo her best friend right now but he knew she needed him, so he kept his mouth shut in a thin line as she went and opened the door. The line got thinner when she threw herself in his arms and he held her tight. The only thing that kept him from making a smart ass remark was the look of concern and panic on Chris' face. This wasn't an ordinary situation; their rivalry could take a backseat for once. Josie needed them both.

Shane was surprised when Chris pulled him into a bear hug after he'd gotten up off the small couch to greet the other man. "How you holdin' up, man?" he asked and Shane was surprised to see genuine concern on his face. Which made Chris Irvine a better man than him.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine," was his answer, dodging his head away from eyes staring at the cut on the side of his head.

"Yeah, cause you're the poster boy for taking care of himself," Chris said, shaking his head. "Right, I'll handle breakfast, then we're taking Shane to the doctor to get those stitched up," he told Josie as he made his way back towards the kitchen. "Christ, McMahon! You didn't make a full pot of coffee? The hell..."

"What? Wait a damned minute," Shane started to say but Josie laid her hand on his shoulder. 

She was smiling slightly. "Don't even try," she said to Shane. "He won't listen, he's just a freaking Canadian bull moose when he's in overprotective mode."

"I HEARD THAT!" came Chris' voice sailing from the kitchen. 

"You were meant to," they both replied.

Shane didn't know why he felt so conflicted as breakfast was being made and bickered about. He shouldn't feel OK with this. He should feel pissed off about it, but...even without 'the issue' hanging over both men, Chris was first and foremost a friend. And Shane couldn't say he wouldn't do this for anyone because he would. And that gave Shane an idea about how they could rid Josie of this pest named Steven Cooper.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matters get taken into hand.

"Good morning, sir. Can I help you?" The receptionist looked up to regard the handsome, dark-haired man standing at her desk.

"Good morning, Rebecca," he replied with a smile, after quickly glancing at her nameplate. "I'm here to see Mr. Steven Cooper. I have a 9 AM appointment."

Rebecca smiled back at him. "Of course...Mr. McMahon?"

He nodded. "That would be me."

Rebecca picked up her phone. "I'll let Mr. Cooper know you're here."

"Thank you," Shane said graciously. He knew that he looked striking in his black suit, white shirt and maroon tie; he was hoping to use that to his advantage. He sat quietly, reading that morning's edition of the Atlanta Register when Rebecca called to him.

"Mister McMahon, if you could follow me please?"

Shane nodded again and followed the receptionist through the oak doors into the main office. Once again, he was struck at how lucky he was to have chosen the profession he had. Everyone looked harried and rushed and pale. It was a beautiful early summer day; he was planning on heading to the office gym to work on some new finishing moves, take a run then maybe catch a movie with Josie. When was the last time any of these people had even SEEN outside? He couldn't believe that she had once been one of these--people. How could such fire be contained in such a confining space?

Rebecca knocked on a door. "Mister Cooper? Your 9 o'clock appointment is here."

"Bring him in, 'Becca," Shane heard a cultured southern tinged voice reply. He took a deep breath. He had to keep his cool, say what he had to say, then leave. Easy.

He remembered his first meeting with Cooper a few months back at the gala he'd taken Josie to as his date. He didn't like him then. As he took a good long look at him, he could understand why Josie had fought the attraction to him for so long and he liked him even less.

Cooper could be a twin of sorts.

Same dark, dark eyes, same dark hair...there were differences, of course. Shane was still baby fat at age 31. This guy could be a Bryan Adams, he was that ripped. He did NOT like the look in this guy's eyes as he regarded the young woman who had escorted him to the door. This was a guy that got off on playing with pretty women. Well, he knew that. Josie had told him everything, after all.

_Sometimes, I really fucking hate being right,_ Shane mused as he shook Cooper's hand. He didn't even like his handshake; too strong like he was trying to intimdate with his grip. Clearly, he'd never shaken Vince's hand or he'd know that you didn't do that to a McMahon, not even his sister. Shane sure as hell didn't let him get away with it, even managing to add a tight grip of his own.

"Come in, Mister McMahon," Cooper was saying. "Some coffee?"

"No, thank you," Shane replied, walking into the office after Cooper motioned for him to do so. He also hid his smirk as he saw Cooper try to hide rubbing his hand, the aftermath of their silent pissing contest. He heard Cooper tell Rebecca to hold his calls for the meeting. Shane had used the ruse of looking for other agencies for WCW's marketing campaign. It was entirely untrue; Shane had no intention of leaving Phil Mercer and his firm, but as the current head of the business he was allowed to make these little white lies. Especially in the cause he was telling untruths for.

Cooper took a seat at his desk. "Now, Mister McMahon....how can Jackson-Coe help WCW?"

It was the first time that Shane took a good long look at the man in front of him. The air of insincerity came off him in waves. It was the reason he didn't do his usual correction to call him 'Shane'. "Actually," he answered, "you can help me in a different way. It's about one of your former... employees." Shane was a master at conveying feeling and content with just a slight emphasis on certain words and the most subtle of gestures. An outstretched hand, a slight wave of the fingers and he knew that Cooper understood the kind of relationship Shane was referring to.

"We have many people who have, unfortunately, left Jackson-Coe," Cooper said.

"Oh, I think you'll remember this particular one," Shane replied coolly. "Blonde. Hazel eyes. About 5'6", 130, built like a--"

"Ah. Josephine."

Shane nodded. "Yes. Josephine." He fought the urge to grab Cooper by the neck and throttle him for the way he said her name. Like he owned her. Like she was a prized racehorse or a gold watch. Like she was property.

Cooper leaned back. "Josephine was one of our more...aggressive...creative staffers. We were sorry to lose her and her--varied--talents."

"Yes. I am aware of this."

"I have to admit, Mister McMahon, I'm at a loss..."

"It's very simple, _Mister_ Cooper," Shane said, leaning over. "I want you to leave her alone." He took the note that Chris had stolen off Josie’s desk that first time from the breast pocket of his jacket and slid it across the desk. "This...and everything else, stops. NOW."

Cooper stared down at the piece of paper. His hands shook a bit. "I assure you, I have no idea what you mean to imply with this."

Shane sat back. "Humor me," he said, knowing that his dark eyes had a look in them that was agate hard and icy cold. "Pretend you do."

Cooper's eyes widened. "She sent--"

"Believe me, she has no idea I'm here. She'll probably kill me when she finds out." Shane leaned forward. "Let me use small syllables, Cooper, so we're sure we understand each other. The notes--STOP. The phone calls--STOP. The stalking--STOPS. If you so much as SNEEZE in Josie's direction, I will fill your life with a misery you've only dreamed of."

Cooper stood up. "Who the hell do you think--"

"Sit. Down." Shane was still seated casually in his chair, his voice was even and calm even with the cold tone in it. "You don't scare me. I will die before I let you hurt that girl another second and I've got about twenty or so very large friends who feel the same way." Shane finally stood up, smoothing the lapels of his jacket down before rebuttoning it.. "I think I've made my point. No need to show me out, I'll find my own way." He didn’t bother looking back, he simply turned and made his way to the closed office door.

"I OWN that skinny little--"

Shane stopped, his hand on the doorknob. "I would seriously reconsider the next word that comes out of your mouth, Mr. Cooper," Shane said quietly, not turning around. "If it's 'bitch', 'slut', 'tramp' or 'whore', that world of misery I promised...it starts right now."

"This isn't over, McMahon." Cooper sat down in his chair. "Not by a long shot."

"Really? It's been over. You just haven't had the sense to figure it out yet." Shane walked out of the door, and headed out of the bustling office. At the reception desk, he stopped for a moment. "Rebecca," he said, "did you know a Miss Donnelly?"

"Josie?" The receptionist nodded. "I haven't seen Josie since she left," she added. "I wonder how she is. Do you know her, Mister McMahon?"

Shane smiled and handed her a card. It was one of Josie’s, with her new official title of 'Manager of Advertising, World Championship Wrestling' on it. "I think," he said, "that you should give her a call someday. She'd like to hear a friendly voice."

The woman smiled brightly. "Thank you. We all miss Josie...she was a lot of fun."

Shane smiled. "I'm sure she was. Thank you for your help, Rebecca," he said as he left the office.

"Any time," Rebecca said dreamily, watching the tall, dark-haired man leave the office. _Oh, Josie. If that's the NEW boyfriend, are you ever a lucky girl..._

 

Shane was tugging on his tie as he made his way to his Mercedes. Leaning against it was Chris Jericho.

"Did he bite?" he asked eagerly.

Shane gave him a smirk. "Goddamn, did he ever. You have an idea what you want to do?"

Chris slid into the passenger's seat of Shane's car. "I'm thinking Six Flags," he said. "Very public, a place we like to go, very innocuous. If he wants to try and do his peeping tom bit...I'll make sure he's got plenty of ammo."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris puts the plan in motion. That it happens to be exactly what he wants too is no never mind.

"Josephine, if you don't get out here I will leave your ass behind, I swear to God!"

It was a glorious Wednesday morning. Most people wouldn't think of a Wednesday as a day to head to the local amusement park but Chris Irvine didn't exactly work a Monday to Friday, 9 to 5 job. Mid-week was his 'weekend' and today he was planning to enjoy a trip to Six Flags Over Georgia with a group of his friends. He also planned on doing something very, very dangerous.

He and Shane had a long discussion on the way to and from Jackson Coe a week or so back. They both now knew who the party behind the threatening notes Josie received were. They suspected who pitched a brick with a note through her front window was. He'd stalked her before, but Shane and Chris figured the best thing they could do was to give Mr. Peeping Prick a reason to really get himself in a twist. The funny thing was that Chris wouldn't even have to work that hard to implement the plan, because honestly how many times had they been mistaken as a couple in public already? It was a company joke that a week where a press report from a wrestling rag or online site didn't come out trumpeting 'The Blonde Beauty Breaking Jericho's Walls Down!!' meant the world was coming to an end. He was often surprised that Josie didn't flip her lid at them.

But this time--he was going to play it up to the hilt. She might hit him a few times but it would be worth it.

It started with Shane kicking Josie out of the office for the day. Her work was impeccable as always, but Shane insisted that she needed rest and he ordered Chris to make sure that she got it. They had finally used their secret weapon--one Amy Dumas--to convince her to take a day off and go have fun. Chris was about to lean on the horn again when the front door of her house opened and out she came, dressed for a day of fun. Denim pedal pushers and a mint green top that made her look like she'd walked right out of the Dick Van Dyke Show, complete with snow white Keds, a mint green bandana tied around her head and white cat-eye sunglasses.

"Don't you look cute?" he said as she made her way over to the car.

"I'm still annoyed with you, Lionheart," she said as she slid into the passenger seat of his car. "I don't know what you told Shane, but I have too much work to do to get the summer ads finished--"

"--which is exactly why our Royal Bossness Shane-O ordered you a day off to get recharged for the final push," he said, sliding into his own seat. "Now buckle up, Matt, Jeff and Ames are gonna meet us there."

"That's the only reason I'm letting you two get away with this nonsense," she huffed as Chris pulled away.

Chris smirked at that. He knew that she'd never turn down a chance to spend time with her friends, especially with the lead up to the very busy summer schedule. Never mind his own plans for this trip. If what he and Shane suspected was true, they'd have a very interested party trailing behind them and a very large public place like this one was the safest they could keep her while using it for their own advantage. It was a shitty thing to do, but what choice did they have? Shane had rattled the cage, it was Chris' job to push the creep's buttons until he did something incredibly stupid.

"You're quiet."

Chris glanced over. She had her feet up on the dashboard, quiet as she usually was one a longer drive. "Figured you were still mad at me so I didn't want to give you an excuse to give me what for," he said. He was happy to see her chuckle.

"Smartass."

"Not the only part of me that is, sweetheart."

 

_So far, so good._

 

It was a little like herding cats. Jeff seemed to bring out the ten year old child in everyone around him and doubly so in Josie. But that didn't mean there weren't plenty of opportunity to reel her in with an arm around the waist, making her giggle when he touched his scruffy chin to her neck. After a very short while, he'd forgotten what he was really there for. He was having fun. He was hyped up on too much candy and soda and adrenaline from the roller coasters, on the faint floral scent that wafted up from Josie's scarf every time she leaned close and the sound of her laugh when Jeff picked her up and swung her around like one of the cheap toys they tried to win from the games. He even forgot all about knowing that Josie wasn't really _his_ , not the way he wanted her to be but today it didn't matter.

"You're still quiet," she'd said to him as they walked along, his arm around her waist and trying to ignore the way his heart flopped around in his chest when she leaned into him. But really, did he have to ignore it today? Just this one time, couldn't he take advantage of the feelings of protection and affection and all the other words that even now he didn't want to let out of the box he locked them up in? Why shouldn't he take advantage of being able to span his hand along her side, rub it with his thumb, to lean over to kiss her forehead lightly? 

"I'm fine," he said as quietly as he could manage with the crowd around them. He smiled when she looked up at him, eyes bright and lively, just the way he liked them. Not closed off and hooded, wary and looking for the direction of the next threat. It took a lot for him not to lean down and kiss that smile of hers. The closest he got was touching his nose to hers. "Don't worry about me," he added. "I'm not the one with all the stress, I get to run around in pleather pants and no shirt and get paid."

"Oh mah GAWD, will you two slowpokes hurry up!?" Amy's voice came at them loud from several feet ahead. "The line for Deja Vu is gonna get too long if we don't hurry up!"

He smiled at her again. "Come on, sweet angel," he said, grabbing Josie's hand. "I don't want to get hurricanara'ed out of my sneakers today."

 

The end of the day, after getting all the rides, terrible churros (Chris made a note to himself to take Josie to Mexico and show her what a real churro tasted like) and even signing the occasional autograph for eager kids who recognized him, Matt, Jeff and Amy, resembled the beginning; Josie in the passenger seat of his car as they pulled up to her small house. The once neat scarf was now crooked with wisps of blonde hair poking from under it haphazardly and her face was relaxed as she dozed. Chris didn't mind that at all--she never slept enough as it was and if catching a catnap in the car happened, he was all for it. He was for it so much that he didn't bother waking her when he shut off the car after pulling into her driveway. She wasn't all that heavy to scoop out of the seat and carry to the front door, fumbling with his keys to get it open.

"Hmm? Chris?"

"Shhh." He had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Sleepy, drowsy Josie was his personal kryptonite and God knew how many times he'd almost confessed something to her when she sounded like that. She'd gotten him to do enough ridiculous things when she was falling asleep, he was NOT going to fall into that trap. But he kissed her forehead regardless as he got them both in the house. "We're home, angel. Gonna just set you in the bed now..."

"No...I'm up..."

He tightened his hold on her. "Nope. Into bed you go. I'll make dinner."

"You're exceedingly annoying when you go all mother hen on me, Christopher."

He snorted. "Shut up, I know you run around calling me your houseboy and pimping out my cookie baking skills, don't act like you don't love this." He set her on the bed. "Now lay down and rest, I'll call you when I need help setting the table."

"What's on the menu then, Julia?"

"Maple chicken and broccoli," he called back. "Maybe almond rice too, let's see how ambitious I feel."

"Chris, no...we can just order in...you were out all day too..." 

"Too late, I took the chicken out all ready." Chris snickered when he heard her exasperated snort from the other room. He knew that she complained often when Shane tried to spoil her, when he had already unlocked that particular puzzle; he just did it. He enjoyed doing it before, he already knew that once she and Shane made it official he was going to have to pull it back a lot so he was getting it all in now while he still could. He hummed a few bars of a melody that had been poking around in his head for a few days. Later he'd ask Rich to help him get it on tape so they could do something with it one of these days.

He smiled as he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a cheek press to his back. He saw that she had changed into shorts and a t-shirt, socks on her feet when she came into view. For a little while longer, he could pretend that this was how things were. That he was making dinner and they'd go to bed later and rest comfortably. That this was his present and his future. That there would be little blonde heads joining them someday, snuggling down with them until they got too big for such things. "Go back to bed, Jos," he said gently. "I'm good."

"I'll fall asleep all night if I do," she said. "At least let me cut up the broccoli."

Chris rolled his eyes, acquiescing silently by moving over and making room for her at the counter. "Don't bitch at me when you chop your finger off," he said. He was happy to have the comfortable silence that often fell between them as they worked on dinner. Yeah, it was easy to fall into that fantasy, to hear faint noises in the background of laughter and screams of children, maybe the barking of a dog. He looked over at her, carefully cutting the broccoli into smaller pieces and he didn't push down the wave of emotions that hit him looking at her like this. He didn't try and stammer out some excuse when he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, he didn't hide how happy it made him to see her smile, even as she continued to chop vegetables. 

The smile was still on his face as they ate dinner and as they sat on the couch to watch movies, his arm wrapped around her. It stayed there as she fell asleep on his shoulder, her small hand in his as he continued to watch the movie regardless with a tingling arm because he'd be damned if he moved and woke her out of what looked to be a peaceful rest. She didn't even wake up fully when he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, carefully pulling off her socks before he laid her on her favored side of the bed and pulled the already messed covers up to her waist. A quick walk through the small house to make sure all the doors were locked, the alarm system set, all foodstuffs were put away, and the DVD and television were off so he could settle down with Josie in bed. It wasn't the first time and he was slowing counting down the time he'd be able to do it going forward. If the scene at the bar the week before was any indication, it wasn't long before her and Shane would---

He sighed as he crawled into bed next to her. He wasn't going to think about that today. He was going to put that out of his mind and make sure that Josie got a good night's sleep, that she was actually recharged for the next week or so of hard work on her end. He was going to do his part to keep her safe and calm. He'd done it this long, he was going to do it as long as he was able to. A soft snore brought him out of his melancholy musings and he snickered. It was one of their frequent arguments. She refused to own up to her snoring. It wasn't awful like his own when he got on a tear, or especially Matt's who sounded like a freshly revved chainsaw. No, it was a soft burr of a noise that settled him and helped him to drift off.

He didn't know what woke him first: the loud thump of something falling on or striking the house or the blaring of the newly installed security system that Shane had insisted on having put in after the brick through the window incident. He swore as he saw he wasn't the only one up. "Stay here," he told Josie, pushing his feet into his discarded sneakers and reaching out until his hand closed around the baseball bat he knew she had on this side of the room. 

"Chris--"

"Angel, shhh, I've got this." He had to fight the anger down of hearing the edge of fear in her voice and thinking about how many times she'd been through this before on her own. It could be nothing. It could be some dumb kids throwing rocks or bags of shit against the house. It could be some animal that ran up against it. He really didn't want it to be her crazy ex-boss-slash-lover doing something stupid to her house because he was insanely jealous or pissed after spying on them all day. He didn't see any broken glass in the living room, but what he did see made his blood run cold. 

The door was cracked. It wasn't exactly swinging free, but it was clear that something had taken a swing at it. He could see the slight splintering in the middle of it. He moved to turn off the alarm system, glad it was active and working.

"Chris, what happened?"

"I don't know," he said, without looking back at her. "I'm gonna meet the cops when they get here, call Shane in the kitchen and let him know what's happening."

"But--"

"NOW, Josephine." He rarely used that tone of voice with her so she had to know how deathly serious he was at the moment. He wasn't going to put her at risk even if he wanted her right next to him but if this sick freak was roaming around, heading to the bedroom and smashing open the window there was the first place he could go to snatch her out of the house. No, the kitchen was safer. Chris' hand tightened around the bat as he heard a hard knock on the door.

"Police, we were dispatched--"

Chris sighed in relief. "I'll be right there, Officer."

"No sir, you stay. There's some evidence collection we have to take around the premises before it's safe for you to come out."

"Evidence?"

Chris thought he was already angry. Obviously, he was wrong about that. "They're just checking out the house, what did Shane say?" He set the bat down so he could wrap that arm around her shoulders.

"He's on his way," she said and he had to smile at the way she curled into him. All he could do was make her feel as secure as he could until their boss arrived, presumably with WCW security in tow.

**Author's Note:**

> The characters in this story are based on the on screen personas of the wrestlers who appear, and is not meant to reflect them in reality. Josie Donnelly is a pure original. The titles in this series come from the song 'Drops of Jupiter; by Train, and any lyrics are used without permission.


End file.
